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This week we’re joined by a special guest blogger. Patricia T. O’Conner, a former editor at The New York Times Book Review, is the author of the national best-seller Woe Is I: The Grammarphobe’s Guide to Better English in Plain English, as well as other books about language. She is a regular monthly guest on public radio station WNYC in New York. Learn more at her website, grammarphobia.com. Make her feel welcome!
Since I’m a language maven and all, readers sometimes ask me whether I blame the Internet for the decline in literacy. Absolutely not! The Internet, because it requires everybody to write, has simply revealed what lousy writers most people are. But the fact that they’re writing is a very good thing.
The down side of the Internet is that it’s chock-full of misinformation. Many of the websites devoted to words and phrase origins are hotbeds of mythology. Lots of the more popular myths pre-date the Internet, but technology has spread them to the farthest reaches of the English-speaking world. Too bad, because the truth about words is even more interesting than the myths. So let’s explode a few.
1. “Caesarean.”
Ask a roomful of people where the word “caesarean” comes from, and everyone will have the answer. Julius Caesar was born surgically, so the story goes, and that’s why surgical births are called “caesareans.” Well, fortunately for both Caesar and his mother, this isn’t the answer.
In ancient times, surgical deliveries were performed only on women who were dead or dying. Back then, the child’s survival was barely possible after such an operation, but not the unfortunate mother’s (this was around 100 B.C., remember?). Yet Caesar’s mother, Aurelia, survived his birth by at least 40 years, which would have been impossible if she’d delivered him by caesarean.
The likeliest source of our mystery word, “caesarean,” is not the emperor but the Latin word caeso (from the verb caedere, meaning to cut). As for how the emperor’s forebears got the cognomen “Caesar,” nobody knows. One interesting theory comes from a Roman language whiz, Sextus Pompeius Festus, who thought the name came from the Latin word caesaries (“hair”). He suggested the first Caesar may have been born with a full head of hair.
The myth about Caesar is what’s called a false eponym. (The word “eponym,” by the way, comes from the Greek for “named after,” and it means one for whom something is named.) Here’s another one.
2. “Crapper.”
No, my friends, Thomas Crapper did not invent the flush toilet. There was such a man, and he was a plumbing magnate in 19th-century England (he even made and sold toilets), but his name is pure coincidence. Flush toilets preceded him.
Another popular claim is that Thomas Crapper’s name is the source of the noun “crapper,” slang for the device itself. According to this myth, American doughboys in England during World War I saw the name Crapper on toilets “over there” and brought the word home as a noun meaning “toilet.”
The problem with this story is that the word was already in use in 1910, when it meant a lavatory or bathroom and not the fixture itself. The apparatus wasn’t referred to as a “crapper” until 1938, long after the First World War. It’s likely that any connection with Mr. Crapper himself is coincidental. Linguistically speaking, he’s an innocent bystander.
3. “Jeep.”
Myths are frustrating, because once they become entrenched in people’s memories, they’re very difficult to pry loose. “Jeep” is a good example. Many people believe, and many dictionaries will tell you, that it’s a pronunciation of the initials GP, an abbreviation the Army used for its “general purpose” vehicles.
Not true. The name actually comes from “Eugene the Jeep,” a cartoon character who first appeared in Elzie Segar’s “Thimble Theater” comic strips in 1936 (the original Popeye cartoons). Eugene was a cute little guy—a fuzzy creature the size of a small dog, with the ability to disappear into the fourth dimension in an emergency and to foresee the future. He ate a diet of orchids and the only sound he made was “jeep, jeep.”
Eugene was the Snoopy of his day. He was tremendously popular and was adopted as a sort of mascot by several government contractors and other corporations (including Halliburton, by the way) in the late 1930’s.
When the Army introduced its small all-terrain reconnaissance vehicle in 1941, the little car was manufactured mainly by two big companies, Willys-Overland and Ford. It just happened that Ford, on its models, used the factory designation GP—G for “government contract” and P as a code for 80-inch wheelbase.
So GP was not an Army designation, it did not stand for “general purpose,” and it was not the origin of the name “Jeep.” When Willys-Overland unveiled its prototype, reporters wanted to know its name. The publicist said, “You can call it a Jeep.” Willys changed hands over the years and now the trademark “Jeep” is owned by Chrysler.
4. “Snuck.”
Here’s a piece of news. English is a living language, and it changes. Many myths about words can be traced to the fact that the words evolved. No, contrary to popular opinion, they are not written in stone! Take the word “snuck,” which has sneaked into common usage and even into dictionaries.
In formal written English, the generally accepted standard forms of the verb are “sneak,” “sneaked,” and “have sneaked.” But “snuck,” which cropped up as a nonstandard variant of “sneaked” in 19th-century America, has become so common over the years that dictionaries now accept it as standard English. If you don’t believe me, check out Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary (11th ed.) or The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (4th ed.). Usage experts, who are more conservative than lexicographers, generally frown on it, so I wouldn’t use it in formal writing. But currently “snuck” is used about as often as “sneaked,” and seems likely to replace it eventually.
What many people don’t like to accept about English is that in the end, correctness is determined by common practice.
5. “Whole Nine Yards.”
Another thing some people just can’t accept is that the origins of many common expressions will probably always remain a mystery. We know, for instance, what “the whole nine yards” means—the works, everything, the whole enchilada. But nobody knows where it comes from.
Before you offer the definitive etymology of the expression, let me say that I’ve heard it before. I’ve heard them all, and none of them are genuine. “The whole nine yards” is not a reference to ammunition clips used by gunners on World War II aircraft. It is not a seafaring phrase about the three yards—or long spars—on each of the three masts of a clipper ship. It has nothing to do with the amount of fabric required to make a burial shroud. And it’s not about the capacity of a ready-mix concrete truck, either.
In fact, no one really knows how the phrase originated. All we know for sure is that it’s an Americanism from the 1960s. Unfortunately, many linguists and writers (including me) have spent way too much time trying to track down its origin. All those theories I mentioned, from ammo belts to loads of cement, have been debunked. The British language sleuth Michael Quinion has also ruled out suggestions that the phrase comes from the fabric needed for a nun’s habit, a three-piece suit, or a Scottish kilt; the capacity of a coal-ore wagon or a garbage truck; the length of a maharajah’s sash or a hangman’s noose; the distance between the cellblock and the outer wall of a prison, and any number of measurements having to do with sports.
We simply don’t know—and may never know—where some words and expressions come from. But language lovers hate to take no for an answer. Maybe that’s how myths are born.
Yesterday: Debunking Grammar Myths. Coming tomorrow: Five Lessons in Grammar. And on Friday, Pat will be answering your grammar questions. You can ask said questions in the comments.
Comments (21)
Comment
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Greetings!
Would you please address the misuse/overuse of the word ‘myself’? It seems the use of the word has become more popular lately. One example I hear a lot is ‘Myself and my friends…..’. This sounds so wrong to me or am I incorrect?
Another one is irregardless. Is that a real word?
Thanks
posted by JaneM on 5-6-2008 at 12:02 pm
Michael Quinion seems to be tentatively settling on a risque joke as the origin of
“whole nine yards.”
“After many years of puzzlement and false leads, we seem to be approaching the answer, which may by an odd twist combine several of these stories by connecting aircraft, Scotsmen and the kilt, and Vietnam.
Barry Popik, a New York researcher, found that an early user of the phrase was the US Navy pilot Captain Richard Stratton, who became one of the best known prisoners of war in North Vietnam during the conflict. Captain Stratton has clear memories of having heard it at the Naval Air Station in Pensacola, Florida, in July 1955, in reference to a risqué story (which you will find on Barry Popik’s site) about the fictional Andrew MacTavish and his courtship with Mary Margaret MacDuff.
We must be cautious, since this is anecdotal evidence, and memory can be very fallible, especially that far back. But, if true, the origin lies in a mildly dirty joke, which I can’t help finding incongruous in view of all the earnest attempts that have been made at explaining it.”
http://www.worldwidewords.org/articles/nineyards.htm
posted by Vorple on 5-6-2008 at 12:29 pm
Here’s my question: How do you verify where a phrase comes from? I watched the documentary “F*ck”, and they referred to the first time the word was used in print. I’ve seen this same standard used in other stories behind phrases or words, too. Is this the only official way to confirm a word/phrase’s origin? Or if language is so closely tied to verbal usage, how do you verify the first time someone heard or used it?
posted by SpaceMonkeyX on 5-6-2008 at 12:43 pm
If President Bush (41) and President Bush (43) were walking down the street together, what would be the correct statement?
Here come the Presidents Bush.
Here come the Bush Presidents.
Here come the President Bushes.
Here comes President Bush and President Bush.
These questions must be answered must be answered before the next President is innaugurated?
posted by Witty Nickname on 5-6-2008 at 12:58 pm
This misuse seems fairly recent and a an earagrating pet peeve of mine….
Beer is singular and plural. You cannot drink 2 beerS anymore than say “what a cute herd of deerS”…
posted by magicboy on 5-6-2008 at 1:24 pm
“What many people don’t like to accept about English is that in the end, correctness is determined by common practice.”
Amen.
posted by Rutkowskilives on 5-6-2008 at 1:49 pm
why does my Word processor prompt me to put a comma before “which” and not before “that” even when used in interchangeable contexts?
“The dog that chased the cat was brown.”
“The dog, which chased the cat, was brown.”
Also, rules for comma use in general seem to vary widely from writer to writer and professor to professor. Why is this?
posted by Amy on 5-6-2008 at 2:17 pm
Ooh! I had no idea this was just the place to air our questions/pet peeves about grammar! Oh well…
To Witty: I like Presidents Bush…like passers-by or culs-de-sac.
posted by Fruppi on 5-6-2008 at 2:26 pm
If President Bush (41) and President Bush (43) were walking down the street together, what would be the correct statement?
Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber would seem appropriate.
posted by Sheldon Siegel on 5-6-2008 at 3:02 pm
you know what drives me nuts?
when people use “loose” when they mean to use “lose”, as in: “Loose weight today!” do they want to make the weight go away, or do they just want it to get flabby?
if i see it again, i’m going to “loose” it!
thank you for indulging me
:)
posted by the creature on 5-6-2008 at 3:13 pm
I’m also really interested in learning the correct use of the word, “myself.” I thought it was reflexive, as in, “I washed myself.” But most of the time I hear people say something like, “Please give the ball to myself.” That doesn’t seem to make sense, but maybe I have no idea.
posted by Manda on 5-6-2008 at 8:43 pm
JaneM, “irregardless” drives me insane. I know that “regardless” is a word, and I know that “irrespective” is a word, but you cannot convince me that “irregardless” is a word. It’s a freaking one-word double negative! Yet according to my etymological dictionary (yes, I’m a nerd), “irregardless” is now part of the English lexicon purely because people have consistently (albeit incorrectly) used it for so long. It drives me nuts.
Another grammar gaffe that I can’t stand is “small, little” or “little, tiny” or “big, huge,” as in, “I just want a small, little piece of cake,” or “There’s a big, huge dog next door.” Redundant much? Same thing with “ATM machine” and “PIN number.” What do you think the “M” and the “N” stand for?!
So ends my rant for the day.
posted by lala on 5-7-2008 at 8:18 am
“(including Halliburton, by the way)”
Oooh! The evil Halliburton! You couldn’t help but toss that liberal bogeyman in could you. I bet you didn’t even give it a thought while typing it as it is so ingrained in your little liberal head.
This site gets worse and worse with crap like this. Almost makes me wnat to cancel my subscription to the magazine…
posted by Sam on 5-7-2008 at 9:44 am
Suck it up, Sam.
posted by Paul on 5-7-2008 at 5:16 pm
The writer mentioned Halliburton’s former mascot. How could that possibly elicit such a reaction from anyone?
posted by Thomas on 5-7-2008 at 5:27 pm
I have always heard that “the whole nine yards” goes back to at least the 18th century and corporal punishment on British sailing ships. Sometimes sailors were sent to the gallows, sometimes they were given the cat of nine tails, but sometimes they were punished by being forced to walk across the deck of the ship and be beaten or whipped by their fellow sailors. The other sailors would line up in two parallel rows and the sailor to be punished would have to walk down the middle and take lashes from the others. The length of the row of sailors and the distance the sailor being punished had to walk was nine yards (which is reasonable given the size of the deck of 18th century sailing ships). Hence, going “the whole nine yards” would have originally meant surviving a long and difficult ordeal by getting through the beating while still standing on one’s feet, or at least before passing out from the pain.
(The sailors who were doing the beating, by the way, weren’t allowed to go easy on the offending sailor or they risked being beaten too. “Discipline” in those days was strongly enforced.)
This interpretation has been taken up in popular culture. In one of the early episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Lt. Worf goes through a ritual Klingon ceremony (the Rite of Ascension, I believe) during which he has to walk between a row of other Klingon soldiers who prod him with “pain sticks”. The distance looks to be about nine yards long, and I think there were about 8 or 9 soldiers in each row. By the end, Wolf can barely crawl, but he makes it “the whole nine yards” before collapsing at the end of the ceremony.
posted by Pantagruelle on 5-8-2008 at 10:37 am
Witty Nickname–
There are several possible answers to this question. The one that makes the most sense to me is: Here comes President Bush and former President Bush.
Or: Here comes former President Bush and his son, President Bush.
posted by Kathe on 5-10-2008 at 1:15 pm
I had heard that “the whole nine yards” came from the length of trains on wedding dresses–the longer the train, the fancier the person. Royalty would get the full-length train, nine yards in length.
This is late, and I’m sure no one will notice, but I feel like sharing. :)
posted by Julia on 5-13-2008 at 4:02 pm
Re “caesarean”: the Latin words are not “caeso & caedare” ‘cut, but “caedo / caedere”, perfect participle “caesus”. The moniker “Pompeis” [sic] should be “Pompeius”.
Re Crapper. Single “inventors” are all inventions, since every “invention” is but a point in a long series of innovations and improvements, most of them anonymous. The plumbing entrepreneur Thomas Crapper of course was not the inventor of the flush toilet. Many “inventors” preceded him, but his Yorkshire surname DID provide the basis for the back formation (pardon) “to crap, crapped”. If a word for defecation “to crap” had been in circulation in Victoria’s England, never would it have been allowed to cast iron water jackets emblazoned “CRAPPER’S Water Waste Preventer…”. The manufacturer’s name “CRAPPER” can be seen on a man (pardon) hole cover at Westminster Abbey. Never before WW I is there any record of a verb “to crap”. The first attestations are in graffiti recorded by Allen Walker Read in the 1930s, hardly a dozen years after Armistice Day, and in WW I veterans’ books.
The 1840s phrase “crapping ken” has been totally misunderstood by the word mavens and wordsmiths. It was not a reference to a WC. After all a “water closet” is an inside job, not an outhouse. This is itself an Americanism; in Britain an “outhouse” is simply an outbuilding, no value added. The “crapping ken” of humorous literature was a facetious circumlocution for a little house (ken) in the garden, to which gentle folk retired to “pluck a rose” (J. Swift) or a handful of user-friendly, biodegradable grass — a CROP (south English) or CRAP (north English and Scotch language. (”Scots” is the Scottish language form.)
posted by J. P. Maher on 5-15-2008 at 4:02 pm
“Never before WW I is there any record of a verb ‘to crap’.” This means “no FINITE VERB”, i.e. verbal forms with subject pronouns and tense mark — present, past. Gerunds and gerundives –non-finite forms in “-ing” — do NOT count since these are as often (and historically earlier) from nouns, as well as from verbs: e.g. “housing, water-boarding,Googling, surfing, “cowling, fairing, railing…”. Here the “-ing” words are first formed form nouns and subsequently the corresponding verb is created.
Oxford English Dictionary and others are deeply flawed in citing “-ing” forms as verbal. In any case a dictionary is not a primary source.
A primary source from the very era in which Thos. Crapper Co. Valveless Waste Preventers were cleaning up was discovered by the world’s supreme Crapper expert, Ken Grabowski of Chicago:
Headline in The Washington Post of July 6, 1894: “BAGGED -A NEST OF CRAPPERS”. The “crappers” here are gamblers, crap-shooters.
No one had yet uttered “went to the Crapper and crapped there”.
Thomas Crapper must be restored to the Pantheon of Eponymy, alongside Bloomer and Blazer. This goes for General Joe Hooker”, too. Copy-cat Mavens, Word Smiths, and Netymologists have not done their homework and should be exposed as wuacks.
posted by J P Maher on 5-22-2008 at 12:49 pm
missed my Q
j p maher
posted by J P Maher on 5-23-2008 at 10:49 am